


Enough

by Yudonomi



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Cheating, Conflict Resolution, F/M, Infidelity, Marital Issues, No Beta, i wrote this at 3am no one can stop me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23266048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yudonomi/pseuds/Yudonomi
Summary: Alexander might have misplaced some money back then, but not his loyalty.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler
Comments: 5
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

When he had first gotten the letter, Alexander didn't believe it. As far as he knew, James Reynolds was a con who thought he had some dirt on Alexander, and admittedly, he was far from the only one. But Alexander knew himself, and he knew that Reynolds' statements were outright lies.

Alexander never cheated on his wife. He might have misplaced some money back then, but not his loyalty.

He pitied Reynolds' wife, wondering if she was aware of the things her husband was saying. Adultery was not a light accusation for a woman, something Alexander learned from experience. He shook his head. Whoever Mrs. Reynolds was, she deserved far better than her spouse.

Crumpling up the paper and putting it in his pocket, he put aside the stacks of paper that had formed around his desk and put out the light before leaving his office. If his clock was right, it was a bit before midnight; unusually early for him.

Perhaps Eliza would return his touch more warmly this time. John was starting to sleep with less fuss these days.

He began making the trip back home from his office, his steps light as he anticipated coming home before dawn for the first time in weeks. Everyone would still be asleep, and he'd check on the baby first, but there was nothing he looked forward to more than sliding in bed next to his Betsey and put his arms around her. She'd fidget a little at first, adjusting to his weight, but then she'd settle in his arms, and he could almost smell the powder she always used before she slept.

Alex sighed. If he missed even just sleeping, perhaps he really was taking her for granted. But he was working hard for her, for the kids. So they wouldn't have to worry about food or having a roof over their heads. Surely she'd understand.

He was rounding the corner of their street when he saw a man step outside. Alex's blood froze. The man was the first person he had encountered all night, but that wasn't too unusual, no. What chilled him was that the man came from Alexander's own house.

It could have been his in-laws, he tried to rationalize, one of Eliza's younger brothers. Or her father or maybe even Burr. Burr would, for once, be better than the alternative.

Alexander quickened his pace to ask the man what was he doing here, who he was, but then he was gone. Alex stood on his own doorstep, unsure where to go. The letter in his back pocket felt heavier than lead, and he nearly slammed the front door as he swung it open. He rushed to his study and took out every one of his logbooks and laid them next to Reynolds' letter. His records were impeccable, they always were, but in '91-

There.

A thousand dollars missing. He never knew where it went and searched for it until Eliza coaxed him to sleep, that it was probably staying up for so long that made him write the numbers wrong in the first place. 

But the man- the letter- it made so much and so little sense at the same time. Alexander refused to connect the dots laid out before him. His office door creaked as it slowly opened, and standing there, barely visible from the dark hallway, was his wife Eliza.

Alexander stared at the door across his desk, the paper in his hand crinkling from his grip- was he shaking? Apparently he was- as he felt the world close in around him like the stench of death when he and Maman got the fever and the thunder and rain during the hurricane. His gaze remained in place, and Eliza, standing before him, rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

"Alexander? Is that you?" she yawned "You're back early." Then she smiled. It was the first time he had seen her do that all day, and he didn't know whether to feel relieved or disbelief. Eliza had nothing to do with this. She would never-

"Is it true?" He managed to croak out, just barely above a whisper. His throat clenched tight around any other words he tried to say. Eliza tilted her head.

"What is?" she asked, walking towards him. If she noticed him freezing up, she didn't react "Honey, are you alri-"

She came to a stop when Alexander thrust the letter before her. Even in his dim study, Reynolds' bold signature was still visible, and when Eliza said nothing, he repeated himself: "Is it true?"

Eliza blinked, her expression unreadable, and finally bowed her head "I'm sorry."

Like a house of cards, Alexander's mind collapsed. She was supposed to say no. Tell him that it'd been a misunderstanding, then they could go back to bed and cuddle until the kids woke them up at 6 by jumping on their bed. 

The kids- did they have any idea? Philip sometimes stayed up reading. Did he notice anything? Alexander has no idea what to tell him. If he should. He loves their mother, he loves his wife, he loves Eliza but this is one problem he doesn't know a way out of. Can he discredit Reynolds' statements without bringing Eliza into the picture? Can Alexander even bring himself to do that, when Eliza's the one who put them into this situation in the first place? Does their marriage even still stand a chance? Did it ever? Alexander's chest tightened as his head felt lighter. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

His life was supposed to be fine cuz Eliza's in it. Not worse.

Eliza bit her lip as she leaned over his desk. She was shaking just as bad as he was, if not more, and she opened her mouth to say something until a cry interrupted them.

John. Alexander moved to stand up, but Eliza was faster, and within moments, she was gone. He followed her into the nursery, where she rocked the infant in her arms until his cries died down. Any other time, Alex would have felt his heart swell with love at the tender scene of his wife and son, but now he felt as if it were all drowned by doubt. Because that man- probably Reynolds himself, Alexander realized- was just in their house and it was unlikely the first time he ever was there. Because Alexander knew the things people said about him and James when they thought no one was listening. 

"He is yours, if you must ask." Eliza spoke, putting the child back in his crib "It could only be you."

Alex wanted to scoff. She looked like she was telling the truth, and he wanted to believe her but then again, Eliza lied about her fidelity. He wanted to believe her so badly but all the evidence pointed otherwise. In the end, all he could manage was, "How could you?"

Eliza folded her hands across her dress. She pressed her lips in a thin line and her dark eyes shone with unshed tears "Let's discuss this elsewhere. We might disturb Jack."

"What is there to discuss?" replied Alex, following Eliza out of the nursery and into their room "I know I was not the best of husbands and best of men, Betsey, but I at least expected you to uphold your loyalty! If you were truly unhappy, all you had to do was to say the word and I would have gladly granted you a divorce!"

And full custody of the children, too. He would be loathe to leave his children without a father, but if that was what Eliza wanted, then he'd grant it to her, financial assistance included. She'd also have her family by her side, who doubtlessly loved her and Alexander's children.

Her and Alexander's children. His children.

Everything he knew- he built up himself against fate beating him down again and again- was crumbling right before him. 

Eliza sat on their bed, her hands crossed on her lap as her fingers fiddled with each other. Alexander did not want to imagine where those fingers had been, who had been on that bed on the nights he was busy working to provide for their family. Eliza had said he was enough, that all she ever wanted was for him to come home to her, and he did, he tried even when he had so much work to do, but- He shook his head. Nothing made sense. Nothing at all. When she continued to remain silent, he huffed "How are you even sure that Jack is my son? That he is not some bastard like your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I'm sorry, but I cannot say." Eliza lowered her eyes "I'm so sorry, Alexander. I only hope that you trust me on that, if nothing else."

This time, Alex did scoff "I'm going back to the office. Do not disturb me."

"Alexander, wait-" Eliza called out, and Alex was already halfway to the door, a billion thoughts and more running through his head and none of them making sense "I'm sorry. Let's fix this, please?"

He gave her one last glance, Eliza, fallen over the bed with an arm reached out to him and her eyes teary, and although he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms until she stopped crying, there were some things he simply couldn't do. Without another word, Alexander turned away and left, the closing door behind him with a final thud.


	2. Chapter 2

Eliza missed her husband.

They still lived together- they had a reputation and family to uphold, as broken as both were- but after that night with Reynolds, the gap between them widened into a fissure, and she was unsure how to cross it.

It was her fault anyway. She could have simply given the woman money and sent her on her way, or even referred her to a good lawyer (maybe Burr would be interested to hear her), but she instead let herself be dragged by the mouth into her own bedroom and actually enjoy the woman- the poor, broken girl, desperate for love- on top of her. Two lonely wives seeking comfort away from demanding children and absent husbands. Eliza knew it wouldn't last, that she was staining her marital bed and endangering her husband especially after Reynolds showed up at her doorstep demanding money in exchange for silence, but she only had to look at Maria's doe eyes, listen to her pleas for Eliza to stay, and Eliza would.

Her father told Alexander to be true. No one suspected sweet Eliza to have a wandering eye.

So Alexander received it all. Suspicion for the missing money, Jefferson's snipes, her family's disapproval- Angelica even mailed a letter all the way from London. She could see it weight on him, his enemies looming over his shoulder and waiting for him to misstep and show a hint of corruption and the stress of running a young nation, and how he tried to hide it all with the brightest smiles whenever Philip came up to him with a new poem or Angie asked for help with her studies. She wanted to take some of the weight off his back.

The pamphlet only made things worse.

There had always been questions about the exact details of the relationship Alexander shared with Laurens, but with Eliza's admittance of her own straying, the public settled on the truth that the Hamiltons were the perfect match of debauchery.

It was that moment she most understood Alexander's insane desire to keep talking, to argue non-stop. How dare they say those things. Eliza did not stave months away to write 95 pages about how much her husband was a decent man and Maria's was not and that Eliza herself also deserved a fair share of the blame for the public to take away the exact opposite of her point. She had many flaws, as did Alexander, but loving those of the same gender had not been one of them.

But it had been Alexander's final straw.

Whatever connection they tried to reignite by sharing the same bed again fizzled out, and he moved out of their bedroom and into his office. She had just delivered little William but days ago.

Entire months passed with Eliza and Alexander rarely seeing each other.

It frustrated her, but she knew that forgiveness was not hers to seek, but his to offer. So she continued to sleep alone, desperately clinging to the threads that barely held her family together, her husband and the six children they loved with all their heart.

As William became older, he slept with less fuss, but he still occasionally wailed like a kettle until he was held and rocked to sleep.

This was one of those nights.

Eliza rubbed her bleary eyes open as shrill cries echoed in her ear. She fumbled for the unlit candle on the bedside table and blindly swept the floor with her feet to find her slippers, still trying to fully rouse herself. She found her slippers and a match and lit the wick before she realized the lack of ringing in her head. Slight panic seized her chest as she fully sat up and swung the candlestick around to see a figure standing over the crib and her heart simultaneously sunk and melted as she recognized the sight.

Unlike her husband, Eliza was not a speaker. Words did not come to her mind with half as much clarity as they did to him, and so she spent a second with a knot in her throat and her tongue as she dumbly stared at Alexander cradling their son. His back was to her as he held the boy against his chest and William’s head rested on Alexander’s shoulder. His scrunched face gradually smoothed out, and his whimpers began to die down.

Eliza was still staring when Alexander turned around, his face faintly illuminated from her candlelight. The bags under his eyes had gotten deeper, and his fingertips were stained with ink. The fire reflected in his glasses obscured his eyes, and the ring on his finger was stained with soot from when he threw it into the fire along with the pamphlet.

As William finally settled into sleep, Eliza expected Alexander to put him back in the crib, to leave the room and go back to the office, to continue the act that their marriage had become. He did the first thing. Then he sat down at the foot of their bed. 

He gestured to her and she sat down as well, putting the candlestick back on the bedside table.

A million thoughts bubbled in her mind, but none quite spilled over and out her mouth. What was she supposed to say? Was she supposed to say anything at all? The moment between them was more fragile than a soap sud, and Eliza did not want to break it like she had everything else.

In the end, she didn’t have to.

“He falls asleep faster now,” murmured Alexander “He’s really growing up.”

Eliza nodded slowly, her mouth dry. “He is.”

Alexander nodded back, then silence fell around them like a blanket. But it was hardly comforting, rather more like a scarf wrapped around the neck one too many times. The ache in her chest spread and suffocated her. After a while, Alexander moved to stand, and Eliza blinked.

She was so tired of watching.

“I’m sorry.”

Alexander paused and settled back onto the bed and Eliza dug her nails into her nightgown, waiting. For him to say something, anything, or even to just stand and leave. 

Anything was better than nothing.

Still not looking at her, Alexander slowly shook his head and took his glasses off and put them in his pocket. His shoulders started to shake, and his free hand reached for her across the bed. Gingerly, she took it.

A multitude of feelings washed over Eliza when she was pulled into her husband’s arms. Confusion, relief, guilt, and a hundred more she couldn’t name shook her body as the first sob escaped her mouth. Alexander’s fingers ran through her hair as he blubbered against her shoulder, and she bit on her lip as she spread her arms across his back, holding him as tightly as she had the day he returned from the war. 

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed as she buried her face in his neck, relishing in his familiar scent of coffee, paper, and candle smoke. He gently shushed her, rubbing small circles on the small of her back, and had William not been there, the sheer shock of physical contact would have only made her cry louder.

Alexander rested his head on hers, his lips brushing her hair, and it felt like lightning coursing through Eliza’s veins- how very close she had come to losing this, to losing him. If this was redemption, she doubted she deserved it.

But by God, she really missed her husband.

When they finally pulled away, Eliza blinked her tears away enough to see Alexander’s face clearly. Life had worn off some of his jagged edges, and small streaks of silver were forming at the roots of his hair, but he was still the man she married, the one she promised to dedicate her heart to and share her life with.

How could she have been so easily led astray?

“I love you,” she blurted out, because she really did, “I’m so sorry for everything,” she added, because she really was. Wrinkles formed in the corner of Alexander’s eyes and he gently squeezed her hand.

“We’ll fix this.” He replied, voice full of certainty like he was simply winning a case. “We’ll be okay, Betsey.”

And Eliza flung herself at him again, arms wrapping around his shoulders. It was not quite forgiveness, nor was it the reply she wanted to hear, but it was more than she could hope for. It was something, it was a first step, and that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so prepared to leave it at the previous chap, with the comments I got and all the reflection I had these past few months, I felt like I owed it to the me from March to actually give this some sort of closure. So here it is.
> 
> Random trivia: the gap between updates was pretty much the entirety of summer because lockdown (13/3/20 - 8/9/20)

**Author's Note:**

> This was...largely a vent/catharsis thing wew. Because I always wanted to explore Eliza being unfaithful instead of Ham. This is intentionally semi-vague to allow room for it to evolve into an actual series if I ever get to smooth out the details, but don't keep your hopes up too much.


End file.
